by Jo Beverley
He smiled. “Inspired.”
“A new beginning.”
“Then I must have your portrait done.”
“Oh, no. . . .”
“Oh, yes.”
“Together, then,” she said. “The beginnings of a new Perriam line.”
He seemed to disapprove, but then he said, “I’ll consider which artist is most worthy of our patronage. I admire Mr. Gainsborough’s work, but he’s situated in Bath.”
“We don’t need a fashionable artist. A local one will do.”
“Not unless he’s skilled. I want you captured as in life, my love, in all your glory.” The look in his eyes curled her toes. “Come, show me the improvements you’ve made.”
He could stay only two days, and much of their time was taken by a stream of visitors come to welcome them back to the manor and to hear of the latest London styles and gossip. Claris told Jane Jordan about the child, and her friend shared her delight and gave some excellent advice. It was cheering to think that Jane had three healthy, thriving children.
When the time came for Perry to leave, Claris made sure she presented a content face to her husband. However, he took her into the small waiting parlor and closed the door. “I have something I must tell you.”
His expression frightened her. “What? What’s amiss?”
He took her hands. “You know how important Perriam Manor is to my family. To my father in particular.”
“Yes. That lies at the root of our happiness.”
“If only that were true. My father was angry at the way things are, though he couldn’t truly lay it at my door. He insisted that the manor be returned to the earldom on my death. I’ve willed it to my oldest brother, Pranksworth.”
She frowned, trying to make sense of it. “Willed it . . . ?”
“Pranks promises you may live here all your life.”
The truth hit and she snatched her hands free. “Oh, does he? And what of our children?”
“I’m sure he’ll continue the indulgence. He has no true interest in this place.”
“But wants it anyway!”
“He, like me, does as my father commands.”
She was almost speechless. “So Perriam Manor isn’t mine after all. You promised. It was part of our agreement!”
“I lacked foresight—”
“Lacked . . . Your father has no right! The manor is yours now, and you can will it as you wish.”
He came toward her. “Claris, a father’s word is law—”
She shoved him away, rocking him backward. “If I’d lived by that, we’d be in a sorry state! You’re allowing a tyrant his way, and it’s wrong.”
“Have sense, you termagant! I’m dependent upon my father.”
“By choice. We all have choice. You’re just too weak to see that.”
“Damn your vicious tongue! I must earn my living. I do it in service to my father. Through my positions in places of influence, through friends, through court, but at his will. Without his favor, I have nothing.”
“You have Perriam Manor.”
“Hah!”
“Your father is as obsessed as my mother,” she spat, “and as destructively. All you Perriams are mad.”
“Perhaps, but I’ll not create a new schism in my family.”
She stared at him, fists clenched. “I’m your family; my child is your family. You’re destroying your family before it’s begun.”
He was as unmoved as a marble statue.
She turned away. “Get out. Go back to your beloved Town and your so important duties, and never come back.”
From behind, he asked, “Can you forgive me?”
“How? You’ve broken your word to me.”
“Then I can only ask your mercy.” He walked past her and was gone.
She ran to the window to watch him mount and ride away, still angry enough to glare, but with tears streaming down her face.
All her bliss was dust. She’d let down her defenses and wrapped happiness around herself like a blanket, finally believing it hers for life. He’d snatched it away, leaving her nakedly cold.
She tried to tell herself Perry’s betrayal didn’t matter so very much. She’d be able to live her life here. Perhaps her children, or some of them, would do so when she was dead.
But they’d be tenants, depending on the fickle will of an Earl of Hernescroft.
They’d have no true right.
How could he do this to her?
Chapter 41
Perry rode away at speed. That had gone even worse than he’d expected.
There’d been tears in her eyes. Tears, fury, and wretched disappointment.
Yes, she had faced down a father, but not a father such as his.
The Earl of Hernescroft was God in his family. In many ways he was more powerful than God, because he was on earth to be faced now, rather than in the heavenly hereafter.
Othello stumbled on a rut and Perry slowed him, regaining control. The least he could do was to stay alive. If he broke his neck, the will would come into effect immediately.
He arrived back in London and left Othello at the livery stables close by the Lyceum. He entered his rooms, but they felt dead to him now. The expert ministrations of his servants didn’t comfort. The peace and order grated on his nerves.
Claris wasn’t here.
He missed Peter and Tom and their pestering attention.
He even missed Athena Mallow and Ellie Gable a little. In fact, he missed Ellie a lot. She had the kindest of hearts and a surprising wealth of wisdom once she felt free to speak.
As he’d had his post taken over to the house, only a few letters and invitations offered distraction, and no event tempted him. He was strangely inclined to hide away from the world, but he sent a note round to Cyn to announce his return. The matter of the spies should be over now, but he should check.
He picked up the only letter of interest, one from Georgia. It was full of improvements she was making to her home.
And most frugally, I assure you. It astonishes me how cheap things are in the country, and how ingenious one can be if inspired. I’ve worked one wall in flowers using stencils. It truly has the appearance of fine wallpaper, and by stenciling I avoid the tax on purchased paper.
Good God, she was running mad.
I do hope to see you soon, you and your wife. If you can’t travel to the wilderness, I believe Dracy and I will be in Town whenever Parliament finally sits. He’s resolved to do his duty, and I, of course, will delight in occasional sips at Town’s heady brew.
He refolded the letter. Was she truly happy, or masking her loss? Was love enough? If that were true, wouldn’t he defy his father, lose his luxuries, and settle to rural life as cheerfully as Georgia?
He loved Claris, but he couldn’t imagine a life watching turnips grow.
* * *
Claris wasted a day in feeling sorry for herself. Here she was in Perriam Manor, which had seemed her haven, her heaven even, but all was spoiled. What point in improving the house and the estate for the benefit of the Earls of Hernescroft, who didn’t even want it except as a trophy in a meaningless feud?
When she sat to her first dinner, with only her brothers and Lovell as company at the big table, she had to force herself to eat. Soon the boys would leave, and Lovell too, and she would be alone. Her life had often been uncomfortable, but she’d never been alone.
After the meal she didn’t bother with tea or coffee in the drawing room, but wandered the house, trying to recapture the excitement, the love. Empty corridors and empty rooms. Almost silence.
Yatta rubbed against her leg and she scooped him up, holding him close. “Athena abandoned you too, didn’t she? Without a thought.” She rubbed her cheek against his warm fur. “Why am I missing her? I don’t even like her.”
The cat only purred, but Claris’s courage struggled out of the pit.
“I can do this,” she said. “I have a lifetime here; my children will grow up here. What’s more, I will
find a way to keep it in my line.”
My line.
Children?
Perhaps only the one now Perry had betrayed her. She’d come to trust him, she’d lowered her hard-built defenses, and he’d shattered her. She couldn’t imagine sharing a bed with him again, no matter how he stirred her lust.
“You and me, then, Yatta,” she said to the cat as she walked briskly down the corridor. “Back to work.”
* * *
Cyn’s arrival at Perry’s rooms was a welcome distraction.
“All’s well that ends well?” Perry said. “Except for Ryder and Pierrepoint, of course.”
“I wonder if I could have done better by Ryder,” Cyn said.
“That way leads madness.”
“True.”
“Of course, you’ve been an officer in wartime. You don’t need that lesson from me. Do you return to your regiment?”
“I’m considering. Chastity will follow the drum if she must, but she’s had her fill of distant lands, and motherhood seems to have turned her domestic.”
“A natural urge, wouldn’t you say, to want security and family?”
“I suppose so.”
“But you want adventure?”
Cyn shrugged. “Above all I want her happiness, but also I’ve had my fill of war.”
“Then why not leave the army? France will trigger a war sooner or later.”
“And we might have to use military force against the American colonists. I certainly want no part of that. It will be like a civil war.”
“The gods of war always seem more powerful than the gods of peace. Some government job, then?”
Cyn picked up a paperweight, then put it down again. “I’m more inclined toward commerce.”
“A Malloren merchant?”
“We dabble in all things. Shipping, canals, silk, and cotton. I’ve learned something of Canada and its possibilities and have friends in the Hudson Bay Company. They trade mostly in furs, but it’s a rich land that’s only just being discovered.”
“You could exploit that from here?”
“I believe so.”
“No political work at all?” Perry asked, skeptical.
Cyn gave him a look. “With Rothgar as brother? He hopes to keep Canada out of the coming troubles. Trade, as always, will play a part.”
Perry walked to the window and looked out at the busy street. “Why is life never simple for people like us?”
“Do you want simple?”
Perry heard the surprise and turned. “I too am considering, and I too want my wife’s happiness.”
“And she wants?”
“A tranquil life in the countryside.”
“She has that, doesn’t she?”
“But without me.”
“Ah. What ties you here, then?”
“I’m beginning to wonder.” With exasperation he added, “A month ago I’d have said that country living was intolerable, but now . . . Could I truly be content as a country squire?”
Perhaps he’d hoped for assurance, for he was shocked when Cyn said, “No. But you’ve no more need to be in London than I have to be in Canada, and you have the advantage of a short journey, whereas I’m unlikely to see Canada again.”
“I can’t do what I do now from Perriam Manor.”
“Is that true? You have your friends and contacts, and letters travel speedily. You can travel up to London as often as need be, barring the worst weather.”
“Perhaps thirty days a year here,” Perry murmured.
“Will that suffice?”
Perry laughed. “A whimsy. Ignore me. You’ve given me much to think about.”
“I hope to some purpose. Do you attend the Duchess of Ithorne’s soiree tonight? A castrato is to perform.”
“Always an alarming concept, despite the beauty of the voice. But yes, I’ll be there.”
It was time to pull free of maudlin dreams and resume his life.
* * *
Three days after Claris returned from London, Jane Jordan came over to talk about London and babies. She was a pretty, plump young woman with bouncing blond curls and a ready smile. She’d brought her three-year-old daughter, Ellen, with her, and they were remarkably alike.
“I’ve only been to London twice,” she said. “I did enjoy it, but I was happy to return home.”
“Yes, it’s a spice to be used lightly. Yet some feast on it.”
“Like your husband?” Jane asked cautiously.
Claris made sure to smile as she replied, “Exactly like him. Town people are a different species, I think. Is it normal that I’m not sick?”
“Oh yes. I was with one, but not with the others.”
When Jane left, Claris was in better spirits. She wasn’t alone here, and there was plenty of work. She had a setback later when Alice nervously asked to return to Cheynings.
“You’re settled back here, you see, ma’am, and have little need of me. And my brother’s marrying next week and I’ll like to be there.”
Again, Claris made sure to smile. “Of course you would. It’s been kind of you to stay so long.”
“Oh, I’ve enjoyed it, ma’am. Especially London.”
“Are you another who’d feast on London if you could?”
Clearly Alice didn’t understand, but she said, “I’d like to serve a lady who spent time there, ma’am. But I’d not like to be far from my family all the time. I’d rather be a housemaid at Cheynings than away all the time.”
Claris made the arrangements for Alice to travel back to Cheynings and consulted with Mistress Eavesham about a replacement. In the meantime, she accepted Deborah as maid. It might become permanent. A proper lady’s maid wouldn’t want to serve a rural lady who rarely attended any fashionable event or went to Town.
She might never go to Town again.
She would not mope, and so she flung herself into the projects she had planned. She wrote to Henry Cheere’s workshop, asking for a sculptor to come to the manor. She told Parminter about some improved farming methods she’d read about in The Gentleman’s Magazine. He was cautious but agreed they should investigate. He was less happy about the amount of money she wanted to spend on improving the cottages, but she was determined on that.
At one point he suggested she should consult with her husband.
“Mr. Perriam has given me complete authority here.”
The brief rebellion subsided, and she had her way.
The sculptor arrived from London, but there were no letters. Not from Athena. Not from Perry. She didn’t know why she’d expected a letter from him, but she had.
Did he think she wouldn’t welcome letters?
She shouldn’t, but she would. Foolish as it was, she wanted, needed, to know what he was doing day by day.
She could write to him, but that would let him off the hook, and he was in the wrong.
She plunged back into work.
On a day of torrential rain, she remembered the linen cupboards. Ripping frail sheets would suit her mood, but it was dull work without Ellie. She did miss Ellie and wondered how she was doing. Athena would be dragging her to the sorts of philosophical meetings that bored her. It didn’t seem right, but despite everything, Ellie was a servant. She knew her place.
“Need some help with that, dearie?”
Claris stared.
It was as if she’d summoned Ellie here.
A ghost?
“What’s the matter, dearie? You’ve gone white.”
Claris ran over and hugged her. “It is you! I was just thinking how much I missed you. Is Athena here?”
Her dismay must have shown, for Ellie chuckled. “Not her. She’s rooted in London now. I’m not. I thought perhaps you might find some work for me here?”
Claris hugged her again. “Can you imagine otherwise? But not work. This is your home. In fact, you can be my companion! I had that idea once but couldn’t imagine anyone suiting.”
Ellie beamed. “That’s very kind of you, dearie. I’d like
that. But I have to keep busy. Let’s see about these sheets.”
Claris almost agreed, but then she said, “Not yet. You’ve been traveling, and in such weather. You’ll want tea and food. Come along. You can tell me all the news.”
Perhaps, said a weak voice, about Perry?
Over tea and cakes, Ellie related Athena’s adventures. She was now the leader of a group of women working for the improved rights of women.
“Quite the lion, she is,” Ellie said. “Or lioness, I suppose. What with her discarding her husband and traveling and having such adventures. Sometimes makes a bigger loaf of them than’s true, but she’s happy. A couple of grand ladies have given her annuities, so she’s an income. Not as large as she’d like. Not yet, at least.”
Claris shook her head. “I admire her, but she’s so very wrapped up in herself.”
“Always has been, dearie. But as you say, a remarkable woman.”
“Will you miss her?” Claris asked.
“A little, but mostly out of habit. I’m not clever enough for all the things she’s involved in now, and I don’t like London. You sure you want me here, Claris? I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Sure and certain. I couldn’t be happier. I’ve been feeling a bit lonely, you see.” Ellie hadn’t mentioned Perry, and Claris couldn’t bear it. “Perriam?” she asked. “Did you see anything of him?”
Ellie’s eyes were knowing. “No, dearie. But then, I heard he’d gone to Versailles. A restless sort of man, isn’t he?”
Claris managed a calm smile. “Too restless for a country manor, that’s for sure. Now, which room do you want? The one you shared with Athena is probably the nicest, but you must choose as you wish. And I’ll arrange your salary.”
“Oh, no . . .”
“Ellie! You’re to be my companion and I intend to demand a great deal of companionship. I insist on paying you well.”
When Ellie’s eyes glistened and she pulled out a handkerchief to dab at them, Claris wondered if Athena had ever paid her, through all those years of devoted service.
She hugged her. Undutiful though it might be, she had no wish to see her grandmother ever again. “This is your home, Ellie, and we are your family. I’m so grateful that you’re here.”